


Day 24: Memory Loss

by SpiderShell



Series: FEBUWHUMP 2021: IronDad [24]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, BAMF Tony Stark, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Mistaken Identity, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Poor Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Scared Peter Parker, Temporary Amnesia, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29659791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiderShell/pseuds/SpiderShell
Summary: I wake up with a jolt, chest heaving for breath. Squinting against the bright light, I look around, my mind not recognising where I am, how I came to be here, or even who I am. I find myself in a stark white room with blank walls, one window to the right-hand-side, machines beeping all around me, and an IV hooked into my elbow. A sheet is draped over my waist and I shiver, eying the blanket on a shelf on the other side of the room.Something itches my head and I bring up my left hand to scratch at it. Instead of touching skin and hair, my fingers find a thick white bandage wrapped around my head. Frowning, I prod at it, wincing at the slight sting by my temple.Hysteria threatens to rise as I fight to search the dark hole in my memory for the smallest gleam of recollection.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: FEBUWHUMP 2021: IronDad [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136318
Comments: 6
Kudos: 68





	Day 24: Memory Loss

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Amnesia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29074695) by [SpiderShell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiderShell/pseuds/SpiderShell). 



> Okay, so guys, here’s a funny story. I wrote a _Star Wars_ fic called _Amnesia_ about a year ago, and it’s basically about what happens when a very young padawan Obi-Wan wakes up in the MedCenter with no memories. He comes across his master, Qui-Gon, while he’s trying to escape and doesn’t remember the man, which leads to a whole lot of explaining and attempting to run and whatnot. Cut to mid-way through February (which is when I wrote this) and I finally finished this day after slugging through it for about three or four days. Just for interest, I went to read through _Amnesia_ , just for fun and because I know that it’s a similar topic/prompt, and I was interested to see how they compared. Then, I went back to Day #24 (this fic) and read through it again for proofreading and I realised that not only are the storylines of both fics almost exactly parallel to each other, but also most of the sentences/phrasing I used here were identical to _Amnesia_ ROFLLLLL. So basically I said "screw it" and copied and pasted a paragraph from _Amnesia_ into the last section of this fic. So if a lot of this sounds familiar, you now know why 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 (Oh! And they’re both in first person perspective ~ _fp_ ~)

I wake up with a jolt, chest heaving for breath. Squinting against the bright light, I look around, my mind not recognising where I am, how I came to be here, or even who I am. I find myself in a stark white room with blank walls, one window to the right-hand-side, machines beeping all around me, and an IV hooked into my elbow. A sheet is draped over my waist and I shiver, eying the blanket on a shelf on the other side of the room. 

Something itches my head and I bring up my left hand to scratch at it. Instead of touching skin and hair, my fingers find a thick white bandage wrapped around my head. Frowning, I prod at it, wincing at the slight sting by my temple. 

Hysteria threatens to rise as I fight to search the dark hole in my memory for the smallest gleam of recollection.

* * *

I finally make up my mind. Wrenching the IV out of my wrist, I bite my lip at the sharp pain and slide off the bed, pausing to listen for any sound of movement outside the door. There’s nothing, so I push it open and sneak out, trying my very best to stay as quiet as possible. I’m not sure if the people here, if there are any, are good or bad, and I don’t think I’d like to push my luck by meeting them. 

I see an elevator up ahead, so I make a break for it. I rush into the mechanism and push the lowest number (of which there are only like three or four buttons anyway), the doors closing with no incident. Clenching and unclenching my fingers, my feets shift restlessly. 

When I step out of the elevator, there is a man waiting for me. He is tall and holds himself in such a way that suggests he is a person of importance; his expensive three-piece suit and strong cologne imply that he is rich. For a split second, a new comes to my mind, a spark of fire, but it burns out, leaving me with nothing. 

I tense.

“Peter,” he says carefully, one hand stretching out towards me, “where are you going?”

I stay silent, watching him carefully. Is he friend or foe?

He takes a step closer, and I back up, my heart beating quickly. Somehow, I feel like this man shouldn’t be connected with fear, but in this world where I know no one, I can trust no one. Right?

“Pete, are you alright?” he says again, facing twisting with an emotion that makes my heart pang. 

“Who are you?” I whisper, eyes flicking to the automatic doors behind him. If I’m fast enough, I can get out. 

The look on his face is almost terrified before he schools it into a blank expression. “I’m Tony Stark,” he says, as if that needs no explanation. 

He takes another step forward, and that’s the breaking point for me. I push past him and towards the automatic doors, which thankfully open for me, and then I’m running across a long green lawn into the trees, and then there’s a sharp pain in my head.

I lean up against a tree, gasping for breath. My chest feels really tight and there’s a thick liquid oozing down the side of my head. When I use my hand to wipe it away, it comes back red and bloody, and my legs go weak. I think I’m squeamish of blood? I slump to the ground, head staring up at the sky. The stars are really bright tonight and they glimmer down at me as if promising to keep me safe. They’re so beautiful. 

Who was that man? I was terrified that he was going to hurt me, but the look on his face before I fled has stayed in my mind. It was…caring. Like I was someone who was important to him. 

Wait. 

Is he my father?

He must be.

Oh gosh, I ran from him. He must be so angry with me.

I should go back. 

But I’m so tired. Maybe I’ll stay here and sleep for a little while. The pain in my head is getting better; maybe it was nothing to worry about after all. 

My eyes begin to slip closed - it’s almost impossible to hold them open anymore.  
“PETER!” My eyes flicker. _That’s my father_ , I think. _He’ll keep me safe._

“Dad,” I murmur as the man draws near and drops to his knees beside me, face taut and pale with fear. 

He taps my face and runs a hand through my hair. “Pete, stay with me,” he says, and I focus on his face for a moment, his grounding touch keeping my mind from drifting away into oblivion. 

“‘m here, Dad,” I reply back, using my last bit of strength to reach out for him. 

As if he was waiting for some sort of sign from me, he reaches for me and scoops me into his arms, lower legs dangling and head resting against his shoulder. I gaze up at him; his brown eyes look like home, a symbol of safety. I snuggle my head into his neck, releasing a sigh. I drift off to the sound of his heart beating, fast but steady.

* * *

Consciousness returns to me slowly, and I long to remain asleep. I feel so warm and secure and the world around me is quiet and peaceful. But my mind urges me to wake up, and reluctantly, I open my eyes. As light floods into my awareness, so do my memories. Like a torrent of water released from a dam, they pour into my mind, filling all the gaps they had left behind. 

Mr. Stark is to my left, sitting in an armchair while he taps away at a StarkPad, doing some sort of work, I suppose. 

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” I whisper, my throat dry. 

His head jerks up so fast that I’m surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash with the movement. “Peter! You’re awake!” he says, putting down the pad and focusing his full attention on me. My stomach flutters. Something’s changed in the way he’s treating me, and I’m not sure what it is, or why. 

“What happened?” I ask, frowning. I remember going on a mission, fighting some sort of man/creature/thing with multiple legs, and then vague images of a white room, trees, a father. _Oh _, I think, and my cheeks darken. Did I really call Mr. Stark “Dad”? Or was I just imagining it? I hope so. Oof, this is embarrassing.__

__His hand creeps forward to touch my forehead, checking for a fever. Seeming satisfied with what he finds, he leans back and glances out the window. “You got hit in the head,” he said, something like guilt colouring his words. “And you temporarily lost your memory.”_ _

__“Oh,” I say, not knowing if I should push to see how much he heard, or if I even said anything at all._ _

__“You didn’t recognise me or Helen, so you ran from the compound and into the woods. Your wounds opened and I only just got to you in time.”_ _

__“Oh,” I say again, relief flooding me as I realise that I hadn’t said what I thought I did._ _

__“I’m going to go get you some water and maybe some crackers to put something in your stomach, okay?” Mr. Stark says, standing up and stretching his back. It cracks, and I bite back a quip at his age. It seems like he’s done a lot for me in the past twenty-four hours, so I shouldn’t be rude and push my luck._ _

__“Thank you,” I say with a smile._ _

“You’re welcome, _son_ ,” he says with a wink, disappearing from the room. 

__My mouth drops open._ _

__“Parker Luck,” I grumble._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Love you guys, and see ya tomorrow!! ✌🤟


End file.
